


Grand Slam

by masayosi661, purplesheep22



Series: Worthy of Trust and Confidence [5]
Category: Olympus Has Fallen (Movies)
Genre: A Chinese-English Translation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masayosi661/pseuds/masayosi661, https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesheep22/pseuds/purplesheep22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>End of the main part. Four more additional stories to go! :D</p></blockquote>





	Grand Slam

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Grand Slam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623785) by [masayosi661](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masayosi661/pseuds/masayosi661). 



 

The next time that Trumbull gets to see the President, it has been twelve hours since the London incident. The President has of course reached him on the phone during the return flight on Air Force One, but between the immediately hospitalized President after the plane has landed and the severely sleep-deprived Vice President after long hours of highly stressful work, it is reasonable that they did not meet in person at once.

Standing outside the room, an agent helps him open the door after greeting. As Trumbull walks in, he can't help but getting a bit emotional. Even at his age, the experience over the past few years has been unbelievable. When he accepted Asher's proposal and gave up his position as the Speaker to be nominated as the succeeding Vice President, he has the consideration of using his seniority to calm the nation. However, it is beyond his imagination that he would have a second go as the Acting President. Frankly speaking, official presidency aside— who wouldn't want to be the President, Trumbull sincerely thinks that being the Acting President once is quite enough, and it was really a tough business.

He looks the President over, who is leaning on the bed in the hospital gown. Besides the striking bruises and swellings, he looks reasonably good after what can only be called a terrifying incident. Trumbull nods in a satisfactory manner.

"Good to see that you are alright, Mr President."

"Thank you, Allan. Good to see you again." The President extends his hand from the bed, and gives him a sincere shake.

Sitting on the sofa next to the bed, Trumbull looks around the room.

"Where's our superhero?"

"I asked Mike to go home first."

"Oh, he's willing to go home this time."

Trumbull has his signature smile on his face. People who like him think that there is profound wisdom in it, whereas for those who do not, it is an evil expression reserved for villains. At the moment, Asher feels caught up as to how to respond.

"His family should be worried, and he should really get some rest. I asked him to choose between compulsory hospitalization and going back home, and he went back."

"If you let him stay in the same room as yours, I guess he would make a different choice." Trumbull glances at the President rubbing his face tiredly, and decides to let it go.

"How are your conditions?"

Asher smiles to the elder's serious and concerned look.

"The good news is that all the injuries will supposedly fully recover."

"... And the bad news?"

"Due to what happened two years ago, the physicians will need a longer assessment period. I'm afraid that my next month's salary will have to go one third each to you and Mason."

The Vice President snorts lightly and shakes his head, "I'd much rather that you give me more holidays instead. You know, money can't buy the joy of fishing."

Pressing on the still vaguely hurting ribs after the painkillers, the President laughs despite himself.

In the following days, besides the large number of important matters that cannot be cut down, the chief physician's order for the President to rest is carried out as thoroughly as possible. Asher dreams a lot during the night again. They are fortunately not as clear or painfully terrifying as two years ago, but filled with fuzzy chaos and tension. When he wakes up tonight, he feels another presence at the bedside.

From the dim light of the night lamp, he makes out the familiar profile sitting by, "Mike? Why are you here? Didn't I ask you to—"

"Just stopping by." The man' fingertips travel along his damp hairline. The warmth from his hand makes Asher exhale softly.

"And the rookies at the door just let you in?"

"You are already calling them rookies."

"True. Stupid question."

The on-leave Head of the Presidential Detail openly shrugs. The President smiles in retreat.

"Bad dreams?"

Looking into Mike's intent eyes, Asher remains silent, but nods slightly.

Mike does not pursue. He leans closer to the man looking up at him, and uses his thumb to gently rub over the cheekbone, where there are distinct bruises. They look into each other's eyes in silence, until Asher opens his mouth slightly wanting to say something and Mike leans in for a kiss.

The comforting peppering kisses go on for a while. As they are getting heated, Asher's sudden grunt stops Mike. He frowns in pain but still grabs onto Mike's collar. There is anxiety in the moist blue eyes.

"I'm fine, it's just a slight pull. Don't stop, Mike, I need you..." The President's plea is immediately answered. Mike pins him firmly on the bed with suitable force to avoid disturbing the wounds, and leans in again.

"Me too, Ben. Me too." The kisses fall between his eyebrows, at the corner of his eyes, on the tip of his nose, and down to the side of his neck from his chin. Mike mumbles softly, feeling the vibration from the other person's raspy moan as he reached the Adam's apple.

Their lips chase and meet each other, slowly seeking, receiving, and exchanging contentment in the hospital room for a long time, until the deepened voice of the President breaks the silence,

"Mike..."

"Yes?"

He stops the kissing, from which he has learnt every inch of Asher's face. Mike leans close by, and keeps the other man in half embrace.

"You should go."

"I know," He rubs his chin intimately on Asher's forehead, and smiles, "go to sleep. I'll leave after you are asleep."

Asher closes his eyes and feels surrounded by the warmth. His whole body relaxes. He thinks about telling Mike that they will need to talk again, but he is not sure whether he voices that out against the waves of drowsiness. He falls into the gentle darkness in no time. The night passes in peace until he is woken up by the nurse the next morning.

 

-

 

If Trumbull's words gave him chills two weeks ago, the visit by his Chief of Staff confirms that the so-called signs are never rootless.

It is the first day that the White House physician lifts the ban on coffee for the President. He has been discharged from the hospital for several days, and his daily schedule has more or less returned to the hectic norm. In the afternoon, the President takes advantage of a short break and starts on the long-awaited cup of coffee in the Oval Office. Unfortunately, he only has time to take a few sips, and there are urgent knocks at the door which is then opened.

There are only a selected few who are able to burst into the President's office, and among those people, a handful will choose to do it. The President is not surprised when he sees his Chief of Staff in front of him.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Mr President. I have checked with your assistant and he said that it is now your break time."

He takes another sip and reluctantly puts down the cup. The President gestures him to sit down, "What is the matter?"

Staring at the still slightly bruised face of the President, Mason falls silent for a few seconds and clears his throat. He speaks as if nothing has happened, "With all due respect, Sir, if you have any shady business, it is best to confess now."

"I’m sorry?"

"Your reputation is at an all-time high. It would be the best time to lift the cover from any hidden problems."

"... As I recall, I asked my old friend to be the Chief of Staff to help me, not to pull me back. Where does this come from, Mason? Don't you know me? I'm not a perfect president, but at least I don't have anything shady."

"Benjamin."

Mason's tone shocks Asher. Since he agreed to take over the Chief of Staff by Asher's invitation, Mason seldom calls him by the first name. As a matter of fact, the current Chief of Staff only calls him this way when the President is being silly, if Asher recalls correctly.

"Your ring. You've taken off your ring."

"... You said it's time to do it."

"It was not the first time I suggested, but the first time you accepted. And you want me to believe that there's no particular reason?"

"Maybe I also thought it was about time?"

Mason gives him an unimpressed look. Alright, Asher touches his nose, he has to admit that this answer is a definite fail.

"You are the President, not a saint. It's not a sin to date someone."

"Yes, I am the President, so I can't just date anybody, okay? Strictly speaking, even it's you, I can still be sued for harassment."

"What a good example, Mr President. Now I'm really put off by this topic."

Contrary to his dry tone, the eyes of the Chief of Staff grow sharper.

"Nonetheless, your point of concern is quite interesting. Since you bring it up, the person you are thinking about should be right by your side."

"— Are you trying to trick me into something?"

"No, I'm reminding you that you are now single, Benjamin. I miss Maggie, too. Everyone who knew her as a person would miss her. But she is not with us anymore."

"I know. Trust me, I know that more than anyone else." Asher replies softly, staring at his left palm.

"After what happened, I believe that everyone would rather deal with your gossips than the other overwhelming content."

"You are saying that the press room will have to deal with my love affairs on top of all other stuffs. Don't you think that you are a dead man if Allie hears it?"

Thinking of the White House Press Secretary's solid and pointy heels, and her ability to run on those in the middle of chaos, Mason is very certain that his underling has the power to tread any living thing to its death within one meter radius, if she hasn't already talked her way to it. The corner of his lips twitches.

"It'll be alright. She respects me enough to save my final breath."

The Chief of Staff ignores the clearly doubtful President, and continues,

"Your approval rate is at the peak. You are a hero. And you don't even have the pressure for re-election. Honestly, what are you worrying about?"

"— I'm not the one who really saved everything."

The Chief of Staff squints at the President's somber answer, deeply in thought.

"Come on, I don't think your names will be discussed separately. Would you like to see what they wrote on the Wikipedia?" Pretending to have overlooked Asher's sudden stiffness, Mason continues, "Why do you still hesitate?"

"I... I'm afraid I won't be able to protect that person, Mason. The press, the public, the family and career, and so on. You know, if it's just about me, I don't care what others' views may be, except for Connor's. But for the other person, there's a lot on the line."

"Therefore, I'm providing you with a plan. A plan which you can use the White House resources to counter the obstructions. Are you going to let it go? This window of opportunity is not planned, but you deserve it. And in this house, we always have to make the maximum out of all we have. I believe if you go and ask the real hero, he will also choose to fight. We can protect him, Benjamin."

"... Him?" The President's pause is too obvious to overlook. The way he looks at his Chief of Staff is almost panic-stricken.

"I got the news yesterday. Someone's divorce order is officially effective. Judging by your face, you were unaware."

"Mason, why do you..."

"You are a successful politician, Sir, not an open book for every passer-by to read. But how many years do you think we've known each other? I’m perfectly familiar with your face of ‘I’d throw caution to the wind’. Think it through, talk to the other person if need be, and give me your reply, will you?"

After getting a slow nod from the still shocked President, the Chief of Staff quickly exits the office to tend to other affairs, leaving the President to stare at the already cold coffee inside.

 

-

 

Three days after deleting the draft of resignation letter from his email account, Mike Banning finally shows up in the White House again.

Handing over his daytime duty, he goes to the living quarters as requested by the President. He knocks, and goes in when he gets the answer. The President has got rid of the jacket and untied his tie. Standing in front of the wine cabinet in white shirt, he looks back towards the person who has just entered.

"I don't suppose that you are cleared for liquor, Sir."

"Just want to ask whether you want something to drink." As if caught with dirty hands, the President stands away from the cabinet somewhat sulkily.

"Water would be good, thank you. In fact, it's all I want today." Mike strides ahead and takes his President in a tight embrace as he finishes speaking.

"Today?" Asher buries his face into his shoulder. His laugh sounds muffled, "I want this more than one day."

"Don't pick at my choice of words."

He mumbles out the complaint and lowers his head to meet the bright smile on the corner of Asher's mouth. They fall onto the sofa until Asher can barely catch his breath. Still in an embrace, Mike lets out a contented sigh, feeling like that everything is back on track.

"I remember Connor is not coming back tonight."

"No, he was hesitant because of London, but I encouraged him to go. He's been looking forward to the camp for quite long and the doctor agrees with me." He leans even closer to Mike, so relaxed that his entire body is supported by him. Asher takes the man's firm hand in his hands, "As long as you are here, it will be alright. I know that this is what he believes as well."

He kisses over the fading mark on Asher's nose and stares into his eyes. The emotion behind is warmer than the fireplace on a winter night.

"You said we still need to talk."

"Yes, about your position, and about us." Seeing Mike’s instantly serious expression, Asher pats the back of his hand, "I know you considered leaving. But apparently, it's not the time yet. My original idea is to let you be the Acting Director of the Secret Service first, I believe that Lynne would have agreed with me."

"That'd be my honor. But you were saying, your original idea?"

"I talked to Mason a few days ago. I heard that you are now single again?"

"Yeah. Ehm, I was about to tell you about it… Wait, why did you two bring it up?" Mike blinks for several times, looking alarmed.

"Great, now I know how I looked to Mason the other day." Asher presses his fingers on his forehead in regret for a few seconds. He shakes his head and chuckles in the end.

"It's not funny, Ben."

"Sorry. I'll skip the details. I'm thinking," his gaze is gentle, taking in Mike's somewhat resigned expression, and smiles confidently, "about the closet joke you told in London. I think, as long as you are out there, I am willing to go out at any moment."

Mike responds extremely passionately. When Asher comes back to himself, the heated kissing has driven him to the edge of breathing difficulty. His shirt is pulled out from the trousers and pools around his waist. The buttons were apparently a chore to their patience and bounce off on the floor. The body-warm coarse hands travel from his waist and abdomen to the completely exposed chest, making him pant.

"Mike—"

"Anywhere you go, let me go too. That’s all I ask of you."

The whisper right to his ear encourages Asher to tightly hold on to him and kiss back again. For a long time, there is no word needed. Love and lust are more than enough to fill up the silence.

Until they lie shoulder to shoulder on the bed in the President's bedroom, Mike turns and supports himself on the elbow. He looks into the eyes of the blond man, whose breathing gradually slows down to normal.

"So I'll stay on in my position for now. What then?"

Asher strokes over the slightly grown stubbles on Mike's chin after a day of work, and replies in an even voice when his hand is caught and kissed, "I will discuss further with Mason and the team. Just leave it to me. After all, I'm the President and there will always be ways to do it. Trust me."

"Of course I trust you," Mike raises his eyebrows and smirks, "except for driving."

Asher rolls his eyes and pokes him in the face, "We'll see. I will make you sit in my car every day."

"But you still need to be prepared for a hand-over in the meantime. After we go public, never mind the Director, whether you can stay in the Service will be an uncertainty."

"... I have to admit, even I know that the others are no less than I am, but I'm still reluctant to give up your safety to other people's hands." He frowns and mumbles, then shrugs to his President in a reassuring way, "Don't worry, I'll always find another way to serve the country."

"Actually, I have an idea."

Staring at Asher's mysterious smile, Mike asks with suspicion, "What idea?"

"Not recently, but Mike, you can consider running for the Congress."

"— Are you out of your mind? I'm a Secret Service agent!"

"Have some imagination, Mike. Jack Ryan didn't know that he would make it to the President either."

"... I didn't know you read those novels. And he is with the CIA."

Asher turns mischievous, "Now I know that you've read them as well. You know, Mike, reality is often more peculiar than the fictions."

He pauses for quite a while, carefully recalling his past few years, and nods weirdly.

"Fine, it makes sense."

He focuses on Asher's bright expression once again, and leans in. Mike laughs in between kisses,

"I can't believe that you've moved me with that idea."

"Well, just to let you know, I'm very good at this kind of things." He holds Mike closer, eyes full of expectation, "Give it some thought, Mr Banning. For the record, I have my own motivations. If you succeed in reaching the endpoint, I may be the first former president to move into the First Gentleman's Office in the history."

Keeping the lean yet strong body close in arms, Mike bumps their long-naked groins together once again. Asher's moan is deeply satisfactory.

"I believe it's the best pep talk I’ve ever had, Mr President. I will think it through."

He has his hand down to the backside of Asher's, fingers circling back and forth between the cleft and around the entrance. The other man goes tense around the waist and Mike can feel that he is holding his breath.

"Ben."

The low and gentle voice asking for confirmation helps Asher relax. He snuggles his face on his shoulder and asks huskily, "Why didn't you hesitate just now?"

"If I was able to stop just now, I should get a health checkup first."

The vibration from laughing travels from Asher's chest to his. Mike pushes his fingers further into the place where the previous intimacy still lingers. After some teasing, Asher is prepared for him to enter again. Mike pulls out and straightens up. His hands are holding the ends of Asher's thighs for support. Asher opens up compliantly and Mike thrusts in with no reserve. The sudden stimulation forces a low shout out of Asher, but he quickly keeps his mouth shut. With his knees on Mike's shoulders, Asher uses his heels to urge him closer. Staring at the challenging look on the willful and pushy man, Mike accepts it with a smile and starts to almost aggressively pump into the tight warmth with nearly brutal force. His hip moves back and forth, and the direct clash of flesh chases everything out of their minds.

Getting used to the rhythm and calming down from the initial gasping, Asher loops his fingers around his erection and strokes with Mike's movement. Keeping his eyes locked onto Asher's face, Mike watches him immersed in desire, gradually approaching his climax, and eventually come in trance. He growls and pushes in balls-deep for several times, and forces himself out only when he is close to come between his legs. Mike manages to support himself on one hand for a short while, then shakes and falls, resting his head on Asher's rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Jesus, Mike. Did you completely forget that I was covered in injuries not long ago?"

"Oh yeah? You were quite energetic just now."

Opposite to what he is saying, Mike looks up and observes Asher carefully. His hands move along his sweaty body from collar to ribs to abdomen. Asher says nothing to Mike's almost serious expression, just looks at him in a gentle way and lets him finish what he wants to do.

After checking, Mike nods to himself and gives Asher an unhappy glare. Getting his disagreement, Asher pulls him into his arms.

"You should have warned me."

The muffled grumble makes Asher smile, "No, I would not."

"Ben!"

"I know my limit, Mike. And I know that you will never hurt me."

"But what if—"

"Trust me, Mike." He sees the hesitancy on Mike's face. Asher presses their foreheads together and stresses again, "Trust me."

"... You know I do."

"Yeah, I know. Just that we'll have so much to worry about, and we must face and bear them together, so..."

Mike focuses on Asher's knowing smile, speaks thoughtfully, "Do you always think so much?"

"For the important matters that I value the most, there is no such thing as thinking too much. But Mike," some nostalgia flashes in the gentle blue eyes, "sometimes it's not necessarily true, sometimes you need a little faith."

"For example?"

"For example, when I heard that you broke into the White House in the President's Emergency Operations Center, and I knew it was you when the power was cut in that abandoned building."

Mike flushes slightly in an instant and Asher is all smiles.

"I'm not asking you about that!"

"I know, but there isn't much difference, Mike."

You need to have the faith. The President's eyes silently repeat those words in Mike's head.

Mike closes his eyes with his forehead on the other's, feeling Asher's fingers touching his face then the edge of his ear, and gently combing his hair. Before he falls asleep, he thinks that he does have it. As long as he is beside this man, he has more faith than he ever had.

 

 

End

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> End of the main part. Four more additional stories to go! :D


End file.
